Monthly Archives: January 2012

When Someone Comes Out to You

Posted by Corey Jamison on January 26, 2012 None comments

Make no mistake. Coming out in America is still a high-risk venture.

Yes, public attitudes are changing substantially to be more supportive of LGBT people. But in many parts of the United States, LGBT people have little or no protection under the law. Outright hatred still exists; so do violent hate crimes. Even in the absence of violence, many people who come out find themselves being “tolerated” (in the way that getting a tooth pulled is tolerated), as if that were acceptable. Because of all this, coming out—particularly for people who haven’t done it, or have come out to just one or two people—can be intimidating if not downright terrifying. It is hard not to feel vulnerable or exposed.

When someone comes out to you, then, it is essential to respond in a way that creates a sense of safety and makes everyone involved BIG. You can, for instance:

Take a breath…and pause. Make space for the news to settle in. After all, what you are hearing is important: it is about nothing less than the person’s identity.  No matter what your personal views are, the news will almost surely make an impact on you. A moment’s pause allows you to refocus and respond from your best self.

Acknowledge the courage—and the gift. This person chose you as someone important to come out to. The level of trust and intimacy expressed in this choice is a priceless gift. Speak your thanks for that gift and the courage it took to give it.

Listen deeply, speak thoughtfully. Let the individual tell her or his story in her or his way—or not tell it at all. The person may have wanted simply to tell you with no
drama, fanfare, or explanation. After all, how often do heterosexuals feel compelled to tell the stories of how they discovered and shared their heterosexuality? So express interest, ask if the person wants to share more, but tread lightly.

Ask where the person has come out. In the workplace? At home? In the community? Has this individual been out for a while, or is this new for her or him? Knowing more about the person’s coming-out process will inform your role in helping her or him stay safe. It also affects the next point:

Be clear on confidentiality. Is this a secret for your ears only? If not, with whom can you share the news? On such a sensitive topic, gaining clarity on the person’s needs for confidentiality is essential for her or his safety.

Express your commitment to the relationship. Many people who come out fear rejection above all else.  Make it clear that you care about the person, welcome her or his presence, and will continue the relationship no matter what. Then follow through on that promise. In fact, this may be a good time to provide even more support, as the person may have lost others in her or his support network who have not reacted well.

How you approach these steps and others, of course, depends on the individual who is coming out, the type of relationship you have, and other factors. Whatever the specifics, your acceptance, your support, and your acknowledgment of her or his courage can provide a sense of safety that many LGBT people need in the process of coming out.

 

 

Technology and the Cherish Factor

Posted by Renee Reid on January 12, 2012 None comments

A close friend had some great news to share recently. I found out about it on Facebook.

I like social media. It’s valuable for entertainment purposes, staying in touch with far-flung friends and family, and improving certain elements of work. We can share daily details from our lives, swap funny stories, and make an observation or two.

But I think we’re getting carried away—by sharing way too much that is way too personal.  I have seen people announce the engagements of other people online. People fight and couples break up on Facebook. I have seen pregnant friends post sonograms of their fetus for the whole world to see.

You might not think that’s a particularly big deal. As I said, Facebook is valuable for sharing the details of our lives. But in sharing too much, I believe we’re losing something I call “the cherish factor”: the deep intimacy of sharing and cherishing the most important events in our lives with the most important people in our lives.

When my close friend recently got engaged, for instance, I wanted her to tell me privately. I wanted an intimate moment to celebrate together and cherish this wonderful news. Moments like this enrich our relationships and deepen our bonds. Because I read her news on Facebook, however, that moment of cherishing never had the chance to take place.

The cherish factor goes beyond big news as well. Imagine a night at home with your family: few experiences are more important to cherish and savor. Already, though, we have allowed technology to penetrate those sacred times. An intimate dinner or a walk in the woods with one’s children is so easily disrupted by the ring of a cell phone. Our iPhones chatter, our email distracts us, each of us watches her or his own TV. This will only become more of a challenge as advances in technology provide more ways to reach us.

It’s hard to set boundaries when the technology makes us so accessible, because people’s expectations change with technological advances. What if you don’t respond right away? Will people feel less valued because you’re not responding? Will they worry about your well-being?

There’s another issue here as well: I think we can talk about new technology in terms of addiction. The experience of the iPad and other gadgets is addictive in itself; so is the need we feel to be reachable at all times. We get sucked in before we know it.

Still, while setting boundaries is difficult, I think we have to do it. We need to respect the face-to-face, human interaction that allows us to cherish one another. We need a separation of technology and “real life.” Where we draw that line will depend on our individual circumstances, and that’s OK. But we must make a point of making the choice. Only then can we preserve and protect the cherishable parts of our lives—the parts that make us more deeply human.